


Show Me Your Teeth

by milestofu



Category: MindCrack RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1989177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milestofu/pseuds/milestofu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some say being turned is a second chance at life, but Arkas disagrees. Unfortunately for him, Pause is determined to change his opinion about life as an undead.</p><p><b>NOTICE:</b> This work has been abandoned and will not be updated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, yeah, so this is a thing that’s happening. I’m not sure how long this is going to be, but it’s going to be several chapters at least and is essentially my Vampire AU. Warnings, pairings, and ratings will vary depending on chapter, but the over all rating of this fic is NC-17 and Parkas is the focus.
> 
> Originally posted to my Tumblr on 05/24/14.

"There aren't any deer," Nebris complains, standing perched on a fallen branch, his knees bent in order to get a better look over the ridge. It's been over an hour since he and Etho set off to hunt for deer in the woods, and if it weren't for the tracks in the mud, Nebris would be convinced that there never were any deer.

"They're around," Etho replies. "We'll find them."

Nebris resists the urge to roll his eyes as he jumps down from the branch onto flat ground, his boots sinking into wet dirt. "Yeah, well it was never this hard." he huffs a little. "If it wasn't for Guude wanting to throw that damn party," he mutters, his voice trailing off.

Etho chuckles and continues to navigate the familiar plethora of overgrown bushes and vines with Nebris begrudgingly following behind. They're about to go over another ridge when Etho suddenly throws his arm out in front of Nebris' chest, stopping him from moving forward.

Nebris opens his mouth to protest when he smells the air and the protests die on his tongue. Silently, Etho moves forward to get a better vantage point and it's then that he sees him―or at least, Etho thinks it's a him.

With his back pressed against the trunk of a large tree, his head down, one arm limply in his lap and the other at his side, is a man. He looks worse for wear, honestly, and if it weren't for the steady―albeit slow―rising and falling of his chest, Etho would think he was dead.

Peering over Etho's shoulder, Nebris asks, "One of us?" Etho nods. "Why's he out here? He's not a part of our coven."

Etho doesn't have an answer for him, and instead, he moves towards the motionless man. Nebris doesn't like where this is headed, but he keeps his objections to himself and instead follows him, walking a few steps behind and his shoulders hunched forward in a defensive stance.

Etho stops a few feet away and after some contemplation, he reaches down to touch him. He's surprised when the man is moving suddenly, his head jerking upright and his arm lashes out, grabbing a hold of Etho's wrist and holding it in place as he hisses loudly, facial features sharp, eyes wild; Nebris reacts instantly, swatting the hand away from Etho and a feral, violent rumble expels from his rib cage.

"It's OK, we don't mean to hurt you," Etho says, moderately unfazed and keeps his voice level. The man's eyes shift from Nebris to him, his lips twitching as if he wants to hiss again, an edge of confusion in his expression.

Etho takes in his features and how his messy dark hair sticking to his forehead from sweat, how his skin a yellow, clammy tinge, and how his teeth appear to not fit properly in his mouth.

"What's your name?" Etho asks eventually.

The man continues to stare back at him but concedes, his throat raw from disuse, "Arkas."

Nebris makes an indignant sound behind Etho. "What kind of name is Arkas?" he asks and Arkas' eyes move to him again, his lips still pulled back and Nebris resists the urge to flash his own teeth.

Almost grinning, Etho replies, "What kind of name is Nebris?"

"Very funny, Etho," Nebris deadpans. "What do we do with him? He's probably the reason all the deer are gone. He's eating our food―"

"Look at his eyes, Nebris."

He does and upon seeing the dark red, he continues, "Alright, so he's a man-eater. That doesn't mean he can't be _scaring_ the deer."

"He's starving," Etho says and Arkas remains silent. "I don't think he's in any position to be moving, nonetheless scaring deer."

"He's trying to kill himself?" Nebris sounds puzzled.

Arkas closes his mouth then and he shifts, pressing his back harder against the trunk of the tree in an effort to gain some distance between himself and Etho and Nebris. His expression guarded and his wariness of the situation apparent.

"Regardless," Nebris starts again, watching Arkas' movements carefully, "he's in our territory starving himself. What do we do? We can't just leave him here." Etho straightens so he's standing upright and he watches how Arkas' fingers curl, mud embedding beneath his fingernails. "Should we kill him? He's starving anyway"―at the word 'kill', Arkas hisses loudly, trying his best to look intimidating. Nebris pauses for a moment before continuing―"Alright, so he's not so keen to the killed thing... Even though he's trying to kill himself. Makes sense... Not really."

Etho crosses his arms over his chest, shifting his weight onto one leg as he goes over the possibilities in his head. They can't leave him out here even if he's going to starve to death. Etho sighs.

"We should take him to Guude," Etho says.  "It's his territory and his decision to make."

"And how do you suppose we do that? Hissy face doesn't look like he's going to let us take him anywhere."

Etho shakes his head and laughs under his breath, words going unsaid and Nebris sighs. Nebris leans down then and immediately, Arkas is hissing and his hands itching to lash out. Paying him little to no mind, Nebris swiftly applies pressure to the pressure point in his neck and watches as all the tension in Arkas' body vanishes, his head slumping forward, his eyes closing.

Nebris heaves him forward against his chest before standing, holding Arkas' unconscious body against his own. Great, they're heading back to a rowdy, hungry coven with no deer.

Nebris is far from amused.

 

* * *

 

Arkas wakes up feeling nothing less than confused and disoriented. He's on a bed staring up at a tin tiled ceiling, he realizes, and his eyes slowly blur into focus. He goes to swallow, his throat feeling dry, and he comes to the startling realization that there's something down his throat.

He moves to sit up in a panic when there's a hand on his arm. His head whips in the direction of whoever's touching him, his eyes wide and lips curling upward, instinct taking over as he tries to appear intimidating.

"Arkas, right?" the man sitting beside him with short, choppy cut dull blonde hair and amber eyes asks. When Arkas doesn't reply, he continues, "I'm Jsano and let me suggest you not to move too much, you'll jostle the feeding tube."

Feeding tube? Panic seizes Arkas and he's sitting up in a rush despite Jsano's advice, the cords attached to him moving with him.

Jsano's hold on his arm tightens considerably and he says, "Arkas, Arkas, it's OK." Arkas is having none of it and bares his teeth as best he can, the loud hiss coming out garbled from the tube in his throat, but a hiss nonetheless.

"Arkas," Jsano says, firmer this time and Arkas seems to listen to him this time, his body stilling, his breath coming out in distressed pants. "Arkas, I'm not going to hurt you. It's OK."

Arkas isn't sure if he believes him, however he doesn't move and his eyes remain trained on him. Where in the world is he? What's going on? He swallows thickly, the tube rubbing uncomfortably against the back of his throat.

"Nebris and Etho brought you here," Jsano says as if reading his thoughts. "They found you in the woods. You were starving to death."

Arkas stiffens, his thoughts flashing back to the woods and he remembers one of them hissing, a predatory look in his eyes and―

"I don't know what happened to get you to that point... Or what happened to who changed you that is supposed to be looking after you..." Jsano lets go of his arm then, his expression soft and understanding. "But they brought you here because you were trespassing in claimed territory."

"Didn't... want," Arkas tries to speak, but it comes out more as incomprehensible syllables. However, at his effort to speak, Jsano reaches forward.

Arkas leans away from his hands, and Jsano assures him by saying, "I'm going to take out the feeding tube, all right?"

At his words, Arkas stills again, allowing him to reach forward this time and gently pull the feeding tube from his mouth. It hurts as it drags against the back of his throat and once it's fully out, he can't help but to cough repeatedly, spit and saliva dribbling down his chin. After the fit passes, he notices that the inside of the feeding tube is colored a dark, ugly shade of red and there's the smell of copper in the air.

"I... didn't... want to be," Arkas manages to say, his voice harsh and unadjusted to speech.

Jsano gives the slightest of nods and asks, "You didn't want to trespass?"

"Didn't want to... become... this."

Jsano's expression changes, his lips drawing into a thin line and his eyebrows rise. "They changed you without your consent?" he asks and Arkas nods. "That does explain a lot," he says, mostly talking to himself before standing up. "I'm going to go get Guude. He wanted to know when you woke up."

Arkas makes no movements to get off the bed, but his eyes follow Jsano's movements as he crosses the room and exits the room through a large wooden door that closes heavily behind him. Arkas lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Fear twists in his gut and makes him consider making a break for it, if only to get out of the strange, unfamiliar environment. Why couldn't he have just starved to death like he wanted to?

He's caught off guard when the wooden door opens and Jsano, accompanied by a shorter man with a more yellow, brighter shade of blonde hair enter the room. He wasn't expecting Jsano to return so soon (didn't he just leave?)

"This is Guude," Jsano takes the initiative to introduce his accomplice after crossing the distance from the door to the bed. "He's, uh, the leader of our coven."

Arkas doesn't say anything, and neither does Guude for that matter. Guude seems to be giving him a once over, and under his scrutinizing gaze, Arkas squares his shoulders and tries his best to prevent his nerves from showing.

The seriousness in Guude's expression melts away then, giving way to exasperation and he says, "You're about as intimidating as a paper bag."

Arkas isn't sure if he's heard right. "...What?"

Guude shrugs and sits down in the seat Jsano had been sitting in earlier, crossing his legs and propping his elbow on his knee before placing his chin in his palm. "You were almost dead when Nebris and Etho brought you here," he says. "They found you in the woods, yeah? What were you trying to do, guy? Kill yourself?"

Arkas doesn't say anything because it doesn't feel right to say that yes, he was trying to kill himself, and no, he didn't succeed. Instead, a sense of shame and regret burn and expand in his lungs―the guilt overbearing.

Guude hums, appearing contemplative. "Well, as far as I'm concerned, all you owe us is some deer from the failed hunting expedition."

Arkas isn't sure how to respond to that.

"You can stay with us for the time being. Hell, maybe you can stay permanently, depending on how well you get along with the others," Guude says, leaning back in the chair, his lips stretching into something akin to a grin. "Sound like a deal? Deer for a roof over your head... If you don't want to off yourself again, anyway."

Arkas looks away, his thoughts rushing in his head and he can't help but bring down his sharp teeth and bite his bottom lip. This isn't at all what he wanted to happen. He looks back to Guude, red eyes meeting gold.

"No, I want to live," he says.

Guude full out grins, holding out his hand as he says, "Welcome to Mindcrack."

Hesitantly, Arkas takes his hand into his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter was drawn by **[Chels](http://ryuuichikashima.tumblr.com)**.
> 
> It can be found **[here](http://i.imgur.com/pMwZQxb.png)**!


	2. You Found Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr on 05/27/14.

It isn't until he's alone with only his thoughts to keep him company does Arkas realize how badly he feels. Every bone in his body aches, his stomach feels tight, the back of his throat feels rubbed raw―honestly, he feels downright miserable. He supposes he should've expected no less; nearly dying does take its toll on you.

He sighs and rubs his eyes, sitting upright in the too big bed. It's been over an hour since Jsano left after giving him a tour of the house (mansion is a way more apt description), saying there is some emergency that he has to take care of, and Arkas, frankly, isn't sure what to do with himself. It's strange and he isn't sure how to explain how he feels about everything that has happened.

Yesterday he waited on nothing more than death's cold hands to wrap around him and pull him down further and further into the earth's crust―and yet, here he is, alive and something inhuman but entirely human at the same time.

He resists the urge to sigh again and slides his legs over the side of the bed, standing up and ignoring how his knees crack and wobble. Jsano said something about there being a bathroom across the hall with towels stocked under the sink. He figures taking a shower would be a good a stress reliever (not to mention his shirt is muddy and his hair is less than pleasant from the grease).

Venturing out of his bedroom, Arkas is a little off put by how well he can see in the dimly lit hallway. He shakes his head, tossing the negative thoughts to the back of his mind and he manages to find the bathroom without too much difficulty. He opens the door, stepping inside onto the linoleum floor and is sure to lock the door behind himself.

Bending down, he opens the cabinet under the sink, grabbing one of the maroon towels stacked inside and sets it on the counter before stripping of his clothes (which feel like they're being peeled from his skin). He walks over the glass shower, staring at the several nozzles before using his hands to figure out which nozzle does what and turning on the water so it's sweltering hot.

As soon as he's standing inside, his shoulders slump and he closes his eyes, letting the water seep into his skin and warm his entire body to the core. The knots in his muscles lessen and then release, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

It's been so long since he's had a hot shower or bath― _or anything, really_ , he notes and runs his hands long the jutting of his ribs. His eyes reopen and he stares blankly ahead, the steam rushing around him and fogging up the glass. He hums, leaning forward so the water beats down on his back.

He's not sure how long he's in there because before too long, the water has gone from sweltering to lukewarm and borderline cold. It's then that he moves and starts to wash his hair using the bottle of shampoo on a nearby ledge, running his fingers through the knots, tugging them free.

After turning off the water, he slides the glass door open, carefully stepping out of the shower and onto the cool tile. He grabs the towel he set out beforehand on the counter and dries himself off, shaking his head after and allowing stray strands of hair to stick out in every which way.

Glancing up at the fogged mirror above the sink, his lips downturn and he reaches out, wiping it clear. He's a little disappointed (and maybe frustrated) when all that stares back at him is the reflection of the wall behind him.

He knows he should've expected as much.

Arkas' attention shifts away from the mirror and to his clothes piled up on the floor, his frown persistent. He didn't really think to bring a change of clothes. He heaves a sigh. Great.

If he remembers right, Jsano said something about there being some spare clothes in the dresser. He bites his bottom lip; just enough to not puncture skin and then makes the decision to tie his towel around his hips and hurry across the hall to his bedroom. If he is remembering right about the whole clothes thing, Jsano also mentioned no one lives on this floor either―it's mainly used as guestrooms.

The chances of him running into anyone would be little, right?

He unlocks the bathroom door, peering out into the hallway and hesitates. He strains his pointed ears for the sound of someone else, or anything really, and he doesn't hear a thing. It's quiet aside from the sound of his heart thumping in his chest (why is he so nervous? He isn't sure.)

Forcing himself to stop hesitating, he steps out into the hall, leaving the door to the bathroom wide open and the light on inside, knowing he'll need to return to get his dirty clothes anyway. With quick footsteps, he crosses the hall and wraps his hand around the doorknob to his bedroom and―

"Hey, you're the kid Guude mentioned," a voice says from his left.

Arkas does nothing less than jump out of his skin, his head turning sharply to look at the owner of the voice. He freezes, his entire body locking up when he sees him; dark skin, brown hair tied into a messy braid, and unimpressed, yet curious red eyes.

"Oh yeah, I should probably introduce myself," the man says, leaning onto the wall beside the door. "I'm Pause and you're currently staying in my room."

His room?

"I, uh..." Arkas stutters, not knowing what to say. "Jsano said for me to... sleep here."

Pause rolls his eyes, craning his head upward slightly when he says, "I'm gone for a few weeks and they give my room away. Assholes."

Arkas stares.

Looking back to him, Pause's lips curve upward. "Whatever, you can have it. I'll go bug Guude about it."

Arkas watches him as he straightens his posture and turns, his footsteps echoing loudly off the walls as he disappears down the hall. Arkas' eyes remain trained on his back, his body finally beginning to relax as Pause gets further and further away.

Nearly fumbling with the doorknob, Arkas hurries into his room―or Pause's room, _god_ , he doesn't even know anymore―and slams the door shut, his back pressed against the wood. It takes him a few moments to recollect himself and to force the image of Pause's red eyes to the back of his mind and for him to remember that he's here to get clothes.

Right. Focus.

He does focus, digging clothes out from the dresser and pulling them on, ignoring the fact the shirt is way too big and the pants are too tight. He probably looks like he got dressed in the dark; however, he can't bring himself to care.

He returns to the bathroom, this time he doesn't encounter anyone. Instead, he bundles his clothes up in his arms, and retreats back to his bedroom. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. When he gets the slightest of glimpses of his clothes floating in the mirror above the dresser, he sets them down and wonders why a house of vampires has so many mirrors.

That's a question for another day, he supposes, and flips off the bedroom light using the light switch by the door. He climbs into the bed that feels nothing like home and doesn't bother to cover himself with the blankets as he lies down on his side, facing the window covered with blackout curtains.

It's time to sleep, and his sore body is well aware.


	3. To Hunt and to Feed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr on 06/07/14.

Stopping in the doorway of his office, Guude stares unhappily into the room. Sitting on his desk is Pause, slowly kicking his legs back and forth. Looking up from sifting through the papers on the desk, he grins.

"Hey, Guude!" Pause greets him cheerfully.

"Hi, Pause," Guude replies, holding back the sigh building in his lungs.

"You have a shit ton of paperwork, dude," Pause says, returning his attention to the papers, rummaging through them absently.

"Yeah, well, negotiating treaties does that to you," Guude says, entering the room and walking over to the nearby loveseat, sitting down on it since Pause is currently occupying his desk. "What do you want, Pause?"

"Wow, I come back and that's the warm welcome I get?" Pause pretends to be offended. "Can't a guy come to visit without wanting something?"

Less than impressed, Guude says, "Yeah, they can, but not you."

Pause rolls his eyes and slides off the desk, ignoring how the muscles in his stomach pull painfully at the action. "Seriously, though, you gave my room away to the new kid. When did you get a newbie anyway?"

"First of all, it's not your room Pause―"

"Don't know about you, but I do kind of sleep there every time I'm here."

"―and to answer your question, yesterday," Guude finishes.

Pause walks around the room, messing with and touching every little thing on the nearby bookshelf before turning around, cocking his head to the side and asking, "He's a newborn, yeah?"

Pensive, Guude replies, "A few months old."

"He smells like human blood."

Guude follows his movements around the room with his eyes and props his head up on his hand, his elbow perched on his thigh. "Jsano fed him some. He's still digesting it; that's why we put him a guest room upstairs."

"You guys and your inability to handle a little blood," Pause says, his lips upturned into a grin. "Is Etho's room still free?" Guude hums affirmation. "Alright, I'm gonna kick it here for a bit. I'm sure you don't mind."

"I mind," Guude mutters.

Ignoring him, Pause says, "Great! Now if you'll excuse me, but I'm going to go annoy Jsano for some blood bags."

"For the love of God, don't get it everywhere this time," Guude says. "The smell lingered for _weeks._ "

Pause's grin broadens. "Don't be such a baby."

 

* * *

 

 _It's been an uneventful three days_ , Arkas thinks as he stares up at the ceiling. Uneventful, in retrospect, is probably the wrong word to describe the last few days―not to mention the last _week_ , but he doesn't care all that much. Aside from Jsano stopping by every now and then to check on him, he's seen no one else and has secluded himself to his room.

He hasn't eaten anything in days, and judging by how his stomach stretches and expands, he's starting to run on empty. Honestly, he isn't sure what to do about that. He hasn't given it much thought. There's a kitchen in the house somewhere, he recalls from the tour he'd been given, and it's probably downstairs.

Rolling over onto his side, Arkas looks out the window where the curtains are pulled back. It's pitch black outside, the only light coming from his bedroom and the moon that hangs high in the sky. Unwillingly, he's grown accustomed to the night; the daylight makes him drowsy and the burns on his skin still itch from the time he'd forgotten to close the curtains before the sun rose (he nearly gave Jsano a heart attack the next time he visited).

He doesn't realize he's zoned out until the rapid sound of knocking on his door pulls him from his stupor. He's surprised he didn't hear the sound of Jsano's approaching footsteps. Sliding off the side of the bed, he walks over to the door and opens it. Recollection flourishes to life in the forefront of his mind when he sees who's on the other side of the door that definitely isn't Jsano.

"Arkas, right?" Nebris says and without allowing Arkas a chance to reply, he continues by saying, "Anyway, you're coming hunting with Etho and I."

"What...?" Arkas says, finally able to get a word in edgewise, his confusion apparent. "Um... I've never been hunting before."

Nebris dismisses him with a shrug of his shoulders and shoves his hands into his pant pockets, an unimpressed look adorning his face when he says, "Doesn't really matter; you're just coming along to help us carry the load back."

"Oh..."

"So, yeah, meet us downstairs in ten minutes?" Nebris asks as if he has a choice in the matter. Arkas wordlessly nods, and Nebris smiles (it's more of a smirk) before leaving, walking back the way he came.

Arkas watches him go and is perplexed about how his life got to this point. Regardless, he finds himself waiting downstairs in the landing for Nebris and Etho and trying his best to keep his nerves at bay. He's failing rather spectacularly, but at least he manages to keep a straight face when Etho descends the staircase with a lazy, half-smile on his face not too long after. Nebris isn't too far behind.

Unconsciously, Arkas' attention zeroes in on Etho's mismatched eyes.

"Hey, Arkas," Etho says, his voice a smooth baritone and offers him his hand.

Arkas takes his hand into his own, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he returns Etho's lazy, half-smile with a shy, wary one.

Releasing his hand and walking past him, Etho opens the front doors leading outside onto the porch, the night air cold and biting, and goose bumps bloom on the exposed skin of Arkas' arms. Etho walks out onto the porch and Arkas hesitates following him, but he wills his legs to move and keeps a wide berth (he tries not to feel too uncomfortable with Nebris walking behind him).

"I'm sure Nebris didn't explain anything to you," Etho says once they've walked a fair distance down the long, winding driveway. Nebris offers a noncommittal grunt. "But we're going to head north of here. There's some woods that has a stream running through it―a lot of deer drink there, so we'll grab a few and bring them back."

"Um... How do you... 'catch' deer?" Arkas asks after mulling over Etho's words.

"Teeth or claws," Nebris interjects, shoving Etho's shoulder and Etho half-heartedly complains. "Breaking their neck is the easiest way―both for us and the deer, I guess."

Arkas decides then that Nebris is absolutely, and completely, unapproachable.

No one speaks again until they're on the outskirts of the woods, and when someone does speak it's Nebris, telling Arkas to keep up. Arkas is about to question what he means by that when Nebris breaks into a sprint. Etho pats Arkas on the shoulder, and Arkas sees the grin on his face for a split-second before Etho's following Nebris' lead into the woods, disappearing into the dark canopy of trees and bushes.

Surprised, Arkas stumbles and nearly trips over his own two feet in his rush to catch up to them. The muscles in his legs feel strained and tight by the time he does catch up to them and they have come to a stop halfway up an old oak tree, perched on a rather thick branch.

Arkas struggles to catch his breath, confused as to why he's winded and they're perfectly fine. Their breathing is perfectly level and there's not a bead of sweat on them. Frustration settles in Arkas' stomach.

Eventually, after he's managed to get his breathing under control, Etho points forward and shows him the stream filled with dozens of small, oval shaped stones. There are a few deer by the stream―some drinking from it, some not.

Arkas opens his mouth to ask how the deer haven't seen or heard them yet when Nebris shifting forward on the branch, silencing him. Arkas' mouth closes and he falls back into observing and watches how Nebris' shoulders pull back and his head lowers.

"Stay here," Nebris tells him.

Leaping from the branch, Nebris' hand wraps tightly around the throat of the nearest deer. Etho mirrors his actions with another deer on the other side of the stream and Arkas' eyes widen. He was barely able to see them move.

Startled, the other deer kick their legs frantically, they run from the stream, disappearing into the woods, and Arkas instinctively follows their movements with his eyes.

"Crap, I broke the skin," Nebris sounds from below, the deer in his grasp struggling, grunting, and snorting. Nebris sharply twists his hand then, and the deer falls silent, its body still.

Arkas hones in on the smell of blood, an unpleasant coppery smell that makes him want to gag, but also entices him. He swallows thickly, the back of his throat protesting and one of his hands finds purchase on the trunk of the oak tree, his claws digging into the bark until it splinters. He runs his tongue along the front of his too sharp teeth.

Etho attention shifts to him them, smiling up at him and signals him down from the branch. Arkas breathes in shakily, thinking this will be a long trip when he jumps down from the branch and onto solid ground.

 

* * *

 

"Can you hand me another container?"

Guude fishes one out from the cabinet and passes it to Jsano. With a smile, Jsano takes the plastic container and drains the remaining blood from the deer carcass, filling it and closing it by pressing down the lid.

Setting the container down by the other filled containers on the table, he says, "We have enough to last about... three weeks?"

Guude busies himself by washing the various knives and tubes they had used to successfully skin and drain the haul of deer Etho, Nebris, and Arkas brought back.

"So we're going to have to negotiate more with the coven up north?"

"Unfortunately, I think we have to," Jsano says. "We've disrupted the population too much; we're going to run out."

"And we have another mouth to feed."

Jsano nods his head and begins to store the containers into the nearby fridge. "He's doing well, though." Jsano's smiling again―that soft, reassuring smile that he always wears. "The hunting trip was successful."

Sighing, Guude says, "Nebris has done nothing but complain about it."

Jsano chuckles, loading the last container into the fridge and closing the door. "True, but Nebris will adjust. In time I'm sure he'll realize how useful it is to have another hunting partner."

"Yeah, and until then I gotta listen to him bitch and moan," Guude says, exasperated.

Jsano pats him on the shoulder, still smiling and says, "You'll be fine."

Guude isn't so sure.


	4. Rejection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr on 07/02/14.

Arkas' nose crinkles at the smell of blood. Even through the plastic of the bag that Jsano's holding in his hands, it's potent and displeasing. Fortunately (or is it unfortunately?), Jsano can read him like an open book and sets the bag on the bedside table.

Jsano asks, "It's pretty obvious why I'm here, huh?"

It takes a considerable amount of effort for Arkas to tear his eyes away from the bag. It reeks of the deer that the blood came from and he hates it. He hates it because it reminds him that it's no longer alive.

"Yeah, it is," Arkas says and doesn't move from where he stands because it feels like there are roots wrapped around his ankles coming up through the cracks in the floor. He swallows and is reminded of how dry his mouth has become.

"Now, I'm not going to force you into anything," Jsano says with a sympathetic smile. "But you are hungry and you need to feed."

Arkas knows that he needs to feed because he hasn't forgotten how badly not feeding ended for him last time. He remembers how weak he felt and how it felt like his entire body was shutting down (it probably was). It was slow and painful and something he wants to avoid going through again.

His attention shifts back to the bag sitting on the table and he purses his lips, fingers curling involuntarily at his sides. He looks back to Jsano then.

"This is from the deer?"

Jsano nods his head and it about to speak again, but doesn't when Arkas moves. He watches Arkas as he walks over to the bedside table and after a few moments of hesitation, he picks up the plastic bag filled with blood and he isn't able to stop himself from making a disgusted face. There's just something so off about all of this―about holding a bag of blood in his hands.

It isn't human, but it might as well be.

"You don't have to drink it now," Jsano says because he knows Arkas could use the reassurance. "I brought it so you had it."

"You're going to need it," goes unsaid.

"Doesn't it have to...?" Arkas starts, unsure of how to phrase what he wants to say. "Doesn't it have to be, uh, refrigerated?"

"It should be fine for a few days."

Arkas doesn't say anything and he hates the faux silence. There isn't such a thing called silence anymore. He always hears something; whether it's the creaking of the floorboards, or the wind rustling the leaves of the trees outside, it's never quiet. It's unnatural.

"Arkas?"

Shaking his head, Arkas scratches the back of his neck and says, "Um, thanks."

"You're welcome," Jsano says and his expression takes on a concerned edge to it. Arkas tries his best to ignore it and not feel guilty (it doesn't really work). "I have to get back downstairs... Think you'll be okay on your own?"

"Yeah," Arkas says and when Jsano doesn't appear to believe him, he continues, maybe a little uncertain, "I'll be fine."

Jsano makes sure to pat him on the shoulder and offer a few parting words before he does take his leave, the door closing solidly behind him. Arkas lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. His eyes drift down to the bag held in his hands; the blood has gathered at the bottom, leaving a pocket of air at the top.

He frowns and then he sighs. His mouth still feels incredibly dry and he chews the inside of his cheek, bringing it between his sharp teeth. He doesn't flinch when he tastes blood in his mouth.

He sits down on the edge of his bed, his fingers fidgeting with the small opening in the bag. He can feel his pulse begin to race when he manages to get it open. He gags and turns his head away. It smells as though the deer is in the room with him now and he's half-tempted to go to the bathroom across the hall and flush the contents down the drain.

He doesn't want to do this. It feels wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Arkas isn't sure how long he sits there for, holding the opened bag gingerly in his hands, careful not to spill. He swallows again and again and each time it feels as though he's swallowing sandpaper. His thumbs press inward on the plastic and he watches transfixed how the blood rises towards the top and threatens to overflow.

Finally, he brings the bag to his lips, not quite touching. His arms begin to tremble and he honestly isn't entirely sure if it's from the anticipation or the anxiety. With a bated breath, he tilts his head back, opens his mouth, and holds the bag upward.

Immediately, he jerks the bag away and doesn't care when some of the blood spills on the front of his lap and the hardwood floor. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and red smears onto pale skin. A sense of guilt has settled in the pit of his stomach because as reluctant as he is to admit it, the blood doesn't taste as bad as it had smelled.

He settles on it being the anxiety that's causing his arms to tremble when he brings the bag back up to his lips. He does his best to ignore the guilt that has begun to rot and spread upward into his lungs as he opens his mouth and tilts his head back again.

It isn't too long before the bag is empty with only a small collection in the crease at the bottom. He tosses the bag into the nearest trashcan he can find.

 

* * *

 

It hurts. It hurts and that's the first thing Arkas is aware of when consciousness returns to him. He's being carried, or at least that's what it feels like because his body feels like it's in motion and fuck, he thinks he's going to be sick. His stomach hurts. Like it's being torn apart.

"Arkas? Arkas?"

Arkas can't really work up the energy to speak, nevertheless open his eyes.

However, he somehow manages to get it across that he's about to be sick because the next thing he knows, he's being set down on a tiled floor. He opens his eyes then and is barely able to get his bearings fast enough to lean over the edge of the nearby tub, staining the white porcelain a terrible red color.

There's a hand on his back and he can hear the person he's with talking to him, but all he can focus on is how it feels like his stomach is tearing itself apart from the inside. He retches, his entire body convulsing when he does. It's only when his stomach has nothing left to expel and he can only dry heave is he finally able to hear anything outside the ringing in his own ears.

"Breathe slowly through your nose."

Jsano's the one who is with him, he realizes.

Arkas tries his best to follow the instructions given to him, he really does, but his stomach is trying into knots again and he finds himself lurching forward and a dry, wet sound leaves the back of his throat.

Panting, he struggles to catch his breath, his throat feeling raw and tight. Jsano rubs his back and he's talking again, however Arkas isn't really listening. Everything hurts. Everything hurts and he wants nothing more than to curl in on himself and for it all to stop.

"How's he doing?" asks someone whose voice sounds nothing like Jsano.

Resting his head on the edge of the tub, Arkas is able to control his breathing. He grimaces and he doesn't realize the hand on his back has moved to his forehead, brushing his bangs to the side. His gaze shifts upward and he sees Jsano who is sitting on his knees beside him and it doesn't take a genius to recognize the concern on Jsano's face. His eyebrows are knitted together and his lips are downturned enough to create small wrinkles at the corners.

Arkas kind of, sort of wishes he could tell him everything is all right because he doesn't like to see Jsano so concerned. Especially because of him. He doesn't want to be a bother.

"He's going to get dehydrated at this rate," Jsano says to whomever it is that spoke before, looking away from Arkas briefly. "There isn't much else we can do aside from let him ride this out."

"Right," the person― _It's Guude_ , Arkas realizes―says. "So we just twiddle our thumbs and do absolutely nothing is what you're telling me."

Arkas smiles weakly at the annoyance in Guude's voice.

Laughing under his breath, Jsano repositions his hand back to Arkas' back. Arkas can't help but to appreciate the gesture because although it doesn't lessen the nausea or the cramping in his stomach, it helps. In a weird way, it helps.

"Not exactly. I'll run up to the hospital and get some blood bags," Jsano says and Arkas wonders why considering they recently managed to hunt just enough deer to get by. "Getting some human blood in him will be good. It'll help him recover faster."

He realizes he must've zoned out because he catches Jsano speaking midsentence, saying,   "We don't get sick, Guude, and considering how sick he's gotten from animal blood, there has to be something going on."

Great. Just great.

"After being changed, your body goes through a lot of changes," Jsano's still talking and Arkas has to strain his ears to hear him (why does he sound so far away all of a sudden?) "It isn't easy without getting the proper nutrition." Arkas doesn't have the energy to keep his eyes open any longer. "He didn't get enough and it didn't allow for his digestive system to adjust properly."

"What about the human blood you fed him before?" Guude asks and he sounds far away, too. "Why didn't he get sick then?"

_Come back..._

"Human blood is different than animal blood. It's hard enough for a healthy vampire to adjust to drinking animal blood. For a newborn, it's even harder," Jsano says, his voice distant. Muffled. "Honestly... I wouldn't be surprised if there's more than just something wrong with his stomach."

_Don't leave..._

Arkas succumbs to the pull of exhaustion.

 

* * *

 

Arkas doesn't notice Etho's entered the room until the couch cushion sinks beside him. He looks up, pausing in his motions of scribbling in the notebook perched on his knee and his surprise is evident on his face. He's holed himself up in a study on the second floor and he didn't really expect to be found.

Unfazed by the reaction, Etho says, smiling, "Hey, Arkas."

"Hey," Arkas replies and returns the smile warily. "Weren't you out hunting with Nebris?"

"I was," Etho says and stretches his arms, the joints in his elbows sound a satisfying crack. "It wasn't too successful."

Arkas' smile falters a little and his attention shifts back to the notebook, fidgeting with the pencil held between his fingers. He has never been that great with conversations.

"That sucks," he says.

Etho hums noncommittally, and after a period of silence, asks, "How are you feeling?"

Arkas returns Etho's noncommittal hum with one of his own. "Better, I guess," he says, shrugging his shoulders. He hasn't gotten sick in a few days, so that counts for something, he supposes. "The human blood really helped..."

Saying it aloud puts a bad taste in his mouth.

"What were you writing?" Etho asks eventually and his curiosity is apparent.

"Huh? Oh, I wasn't... writing." Arkas shifts the notebook on his knee. Unsure of really how to phrase what he wants to say, he settles on saying, "Architecture."

"Architecture?"

Arkas holds the notebook out to Etho then.

Etho takes it, flipping through the pages and realization dawns on him as he looks at the blueprints drawn with a messy hand. He inclines his head, trying to read the writing off to the side without much success.

"I was studying to become an architect," Arkas says.

Etho can't help but to frown because Arkas who has had his aspirations ripped away from him fills him with a certain kind of sadness. "You know, I know someone who might like to see these," he says and passes the notebook back to Arkas, his smile returning. "He helped build this house."

Confused, Arkas asks, "Isn't this house hundreds of years old?"

Wouldn't the architect be dead by now?

"Hey, just because it aged badly doesn't mean it's _that_ old."

"What? No, I didn't mean it like that! I mean... It's..."

Etho's smile has turned into a grin and there's a teasing lilt to his voice when he says, "I know what you meant. But yeah, it's pretty old. We've been around awhile."

"...Right," Arkas replies. "Who is it? Who helped build the house, I mean..."

Etho's about to reply before he's interrupted by the rapid sound of knocking on the wall beside the archway leading into the study. He looks up (and so does an incredibly caught off guard Arkas) to see Pause standing in the threshold of the room, an expression of mild annoyance written on his face.

"There you fucking are," Pause says, although there isn't much bite to his voice. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

Another voice calls from out in the hall, asking, "Did you find him?"

"Yeah, Beef." Pause looks over his shoulder. "He's here."

"We're supposed to go out tonight," Pause says, returning his attention back to Etho as Beef walks up behind him. "Or did you forget? I swear to god you are as bad with remembering things as you are with directions."

"I didn't forget," Etho says and he doesn't sound at all convincing (Pause rolls his eyes). Nonetheless, he rises to his feet from his sitting position on the couch and turns to Arkas and says, "I'll talk to you later, Arkas."

Arkas offers a quick goodbye and when Pause's eyes land on him for the briefest of moments before leaving, he's not sure if he's ever felt as self-conscious as he does now. There's something about those red eyes staring at him that makes his entire body tense.

He watches them leave, and he doesn't realize how tightly he's holding the pencil between his fingers until he hears a snap, and the wood splinters. He curses under his breath and closes the notebook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter is a collaboration between **[Chels](http://ryuuichikashima.tumblr.com)** and myself.
> 
> It can be found **[here](http://i.imgur.com/7j5VOGj.png)**!


	5. Boys Night Out

Pause jumps down from the porch and onto the pathway, skipping the stairs. "You forgot, didn't you?" he asks, turning on his heel and walking backwards to look at Etho. "God, that is so like you."

"I didn't forget," Etho says.

All right, maybe he kind of, did sort of forget. However, it's not like he's going to admit that out loud and inflate Pause's already bloated ego. Nope, there was no way he was going to do that; instead, he will lie through his teeth.

Beef, who's walking with them, chuckles. "You sure about that?"

Etho shrugs his shoulders and doesn't offer anything in the form of words. Pause rolls his eyes and turns so he's no longer walking backwards. They stray from the pathway then, walking onto the dirt driveway where an older blue car is parked. Although it appears to be well taken care of, it's showing its age in the form of the paint beginning to peel from sitting in the sun.

"We're taking Beef's car?" Pause asks.

The familiar jingle of car keys sounds as Beef takes his car keys out of his pant pocket and twirls the key ring around his index finger. "Yep. Still purrs like a kitten after all these years."

"Uh huh," Pause says blandly, unimpressed. "Sure doesn't drive like one."

Beef shakes his head and laughs, saying, "How exactly would a kitten drive, Pause?"

"Oh shut up, you know what I meant," Pause replies and when the headlights flash, he rounds the front of the car and opens the passenger's side door, sliding into the passenger's seat and leaving the backseat for Etho. "Dude, you need some fuzzy dice."

"I am not going to get fuzzy dice," Beef says as he sits down into the driver's seat, instinctively inserting the car key into the ignition and the engine roars to life. "Hear that? This baby doesn't need fuzzy dice."

Pause scrunches his nose. "Sure could use some air freshener."

Etho laughs from the backseat.

It doesn't take too long for them to reach their destination once Beef shifts the car into reverse and pulls out into the street, merging onto the highway not long after. It's a familiar bar that they've become well acquainted with in recent years. Wood paneling on the inside that's dimly lit by sconce lights on the walls and a bar with dark granite countertops.

Pause is a little put-off by the smell of humans inside but he gets over it relatively quickly, sitting on a stool at the end of the bar. Beef and Etho take the seats on either side of him and he waves over the bartender who recognizes him and with a smile, walks over to him.

As friendly and personable as always, the bartender says, "Hey, I haven't seen you here in awhile."

"Yeah," Pause says. "I've been out of town."

"Want the usual?" the bartender asks and when Pause nods, he turns his attention to Beef and Etho. "Same for you two?"

"That'd be great, thanks," Beef says and the bartender nods and moves behind the bar, pulling out tall, clear glasses and a cloth to wipe them clean. Beef shifts his attention away from him and to Pause. "So what's been up with you, man?"

Pause leans against the counter, propping his head on his palm and says, "Not much. Got into a little skirmish, but it was no big deal."

Beef hums and is well aware of the faint smell of dried blood that stains the bandages hidden underneath Pause's shirt. He doesn't comment on it, though. That's a conversation for another time when there aren't human ears around to listen in like there are now.

"Yeah, I heard about that," he says instead. "You're always finding ways to get into trouble."

Seemingly offended, Pause says, "Am not!"

"Uh huh," Etho pipes in, his lips upturned into a teasing grin. "You made Jsano so worried."

Scowling, Pause looks to Etho and says, "It was just a scratch."

"A scratch that required stitches."

It's then that the bartender returns, setting their drinks down in front of them on the dark granite and cuts Pause's reply short. Pause takes his brightly colored drink into his hand, and drinks from it, ignoring how it burns going down his throat.

"You guys act like I'm fucking seeking out trouble, Jesus Christ," Pause says and is just about ready to roll his eyes into the back of his head at how done he is with this conversation. Eventually―after he's simmered down from his annoyance―he asks, "What's been up with you guys?"

"Guude threw a party before you got back," Beef replies thoughtfully. "Rob stopped by."

Pause's interest is piqued at that. "Oh yeah? Asshole can stop by for a party but when I try to get a hold of him to meet up and he's just _so_ busy."

"His hair's starting to gray," Beef says and then jokingly continues, "He's going to turn into Etho at this rate."

"Oh God," Pause says, sounding mildly disgusted. "We don't need another Etho."

"Yeah, I agree with you there," Beef replies.

"Hey, I take offense to that," Etho says.

"So how's Guude been, huh?" Pause asks, changing the topic. He stares expectantly at Etho, something akin to a shit-eating grin on his face. "That girl at the other end of the bar has been checking you out since we got here."

Somewhat apprehensive, Etho says, "He's been good."Pause continues to grin, takes another drink from his glass before standing up from his stool, and makes his way over to the vacant pool table towards the back of the room. He grabs one of the cue sticks off the wall.

Pause continues to grin, takes another drink from his glass before standing up from his stool, and makes his way over to the vacant pool table towards the back of the room. He grabs one of the cue sticks off the wall.

Beef follows and Pause asks him, challengingly, "Think you can take me in a game of pool, Beef?"

Mirroring Pause's actions of taking a cue stick off the wall, Beef says, "Dude, you are so on."

Pause is the one the break the pool balls and it ends up with Pause being solids and Beef being stripes. Etho stands off to the side, choosing to make snarky comments whenever one of them would shoot and miss the mark.

Surprisingly, it turns out to be a rather close game. Pause ends up with two balls left, and Beef with three. However, the tables turn in Beef's favor when Pause accidentally hits the 8-ball and none of the others, allowing Beef to place the cue ball where he chooses.

Needless to say, it doesn't take long after that for Beef to win.

"Nice job, Pause," Etho says.

"Yeah, yeah," Pause says and returns the cue stick to its place on the wall after Beef does. "Well, I almost won."

"You did," Beef says good-naturedly and in high spirits. "It was a close game."

A little bitter about his loss, Pause congratulates Beef on his win and they head back home after paying their tab at the bar. Pause sits in the passenger's seat again and as they drive back through the twist and turns of the highway that is illuminated by the streetlights that line it, he glances at Etho through the rearview mirror.

Seeming to sense Pause's eyes on him, Etho looks away from looking out the window and meets Pause's gaze in the mirror. He cocks his head to the side as if to ask 'what is it?'

"So, what's the name of the kid you were talking to?" Pause asks.

"Arkas," Etho says and returns to watching the scenery pass by. "Nebris and I brought him back about a week or so ago."

Pause hums noncommittally and falls silent. Beef tries to stir up some conversation during the remainder of the drive home, but Pause isn't having any of it. Sighing, he resigns to switching on the radio and listening to the melodic strums of classic rock that begins to play through the speakers.

Fortunately, it isn't long before they're back at the house that is obscured by trees. Pause kicks the dirt off his shoes on the rug in front of the door once they step inside and into the foyer. His eyes drift upward to the banister on the second floor. He finds Arkas staring down at him, surprised, and with a book held in his hand that is filled with different colored tabs.

Etho follows Pause's gaze and when he sees Arkas standing on the second floor, seemingly surprised by their entrance, he waves his hand in greeting. Arkas returns the wave half-heartedly before decidedly fleeing down the hallway and out of sight.

Pause's lips downturn into a frown.

 

* * *

 

It's late in the afternoon when Arkas is awoken by the pangs of hunger. He stares blearily ahead, absently rubbing at his eyes. It takes some time for the sleepiness to seep from deep inside his bones before he manages to work up the strength to gather some clothes from the dresser. The clothes still don't quite fit him right, but he sticks his legs through the pant legs of a pair of brown jeans and pulls on a shirt over his head.

He glances over at the window where the blinds are pulled shut (he hasn't made the mistake of leaving them open again), and judging by the small amount of light filtering through the fabric, he knows it's sometime during the day.

With a sigh, and ignoring the emptiness of his stomach, he goes to look in the mirror to fix his hair and is considerably disgruntled to be reminded that oh yeah, he doesn't have a reflection anymore.

Begrudgingly, he runs his pale fingers through his dark hair and tries his best to make it look somewhat presentable without being able to look at it. When he decides all is well, he opens his bedroom door leading out into the hall, finding it empty as it usually is.

Arkas steps out into the hall, closing the door behind him and presses his back flush to the wood. He shakes his head and straightens, beginning a trek to hopefully find a library. He isn't really paying attention to where he's going when he bumps into something hard. At first, he thinks it's a table of some sort and fear ignites in his gut of the possibility of knocking something over and breaking it. He recoils immediately.

His eyes are unnecessarily wide and he's surprised to find someone standing in front of him that he doesn't recognize (to be fair, does he really recognize most of the people here?) who appears to be as caught off guard as he is.

"Oh, I'm sorry, mate," the man―boy?―with short, choppily cut black hair and the faintest of freckles on his nose says. "Didn't see you there."

Arkas immediately hones in on his Irish accent and puts on a nervous smile. "No, it's my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going..."

"You're the new kid right? Someone younger than me that isn't MC?" the man asks and Arkas offers all of a nod. "Man this is great news," he says and sounds excited, proceeding to go on and on. Arkas finds it hard to keep up with the rapid-fire words; thankfully, the man isn't as naive as he is clumsy and he hurriedly introduces himself, saying, "I'm Pyro!"

Arkas is taken aback by the sudden introduction, however he says, "Arkas..."

"Arkas? Eh, that's a good name! Wow, you really do look young," Pyro says and gives him a blatant once over, reaching out and touching Arkas' hair. "Man, you even have better hair than I do. What gives?"

Arkas isn't at all sure how to respond to that, but something about Pyro that makes him feel comfortable (perhaps comfortable isn't the right word). Something about Pyro puts him at ease.

"Hey, so where are you from?" Pyro's talking again he realizes. "You sound familiar, yeah?"

"Oh, um... The Netherlands?" Arkas isn't sure why he phrases it as a question. "You're from...?"

"Ah, that explains it," Pyro says first before answering by saying, "I'm from Northern Ireland. Been awhile since I've been there, though." he laughs. "So what are you doing walking around bumping into people?"

Embarrassed, Arkas says, "I, uh, was looking for a library?"

"A library, eh?" Pyro grins and points a thumb at himself. "I do happen to know where one is! It's Lord Baj's, but he won't mind us using it."

Arkas takes notice of the word 'us', but doesn't comment on it. Instead, he follows Pyro through the twisting labyrinth of halls until they come to a tall wooden door at the end of the third or fourth hallway (Arkas wasn't able to keep track).

"Without further adieu," Pyro says dramatically before opening the door widely, revealing the room inside. "Lord Baj's library. It's quite impressive, right?"

Stepping into the library, Arkas' eyes widen slightly at the tall, dark wood bookshelves that scratch the ceiling. They're filled with books, both new and old. Not to mention they're considerably organized―save for the few that are toppled over with tabs sticking out of the ends.

"Yeah, mate, it's quite awe worthy," Pyro says and Arkas silently agrees because he can only imagine what other rooms exist in the house that he hasn't found. "So what did you want to find a library for?"

Arkas turns to him. "Are there any books about the house?"

Pyro contemplates for a few moments before saying, "I'd think so? Bdubs built the house, so... He probably wrote something about it."

 _Bdubs_? Arkas files the name away for future reference.

Arkas decides to start looking through the collection of books, reading the names on the spines, some of which he can't read, nonetheless pronounce. He's reaching for a book on one of the higher up shelves when there's the sound of someone clearing their throat and it takes all of Arkas' self-control to not jump out of his skin.

Standing in the doorway is a man who doesn't look particularly impressed.

"What are you two doing in here?"

Pyro, who's made himself at home on the lone couch in the library, greets him brightly, saying, "Hey, Lord Baj!"

Baj still doesn't look impressed. "I repeat, what are you two doing in my library? Making a mess of it, too."

Pyro scoffs. "Nah. We're not making a mess. It was like this when we got here."

Baj takes in the books on the floor and the miscellaneous papers spread out and shakes his head. He seems accept the mess, then.

Exasperated, Baj says, "Well, make sure you clean it up before you leave."

Arkas watches Baj leave and listens to the sound of his footsteps growing quieter as he gets further down the hall. With a frown, Arkas shifts his attention to Pyro.

"Is he really a Lord?"

Pyro looks to him. "What? Yeah! Of course he is!"

Arkas decides then that vampires are way, way too complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I've made it a point through this story that vampires have different colored eyes depending on various things, some of you might be wondering why Team Canada didn't get unwarranted attention for the color of their eyes at the bar. Although it wasn't written into the story itself (just yet, anyway), vampires have the ability to charm humans that are around into seeing what they want them to see. To the humans at the bar, all they saw was normal eyes and what not.


	6. Interlude I: Etho

It's getting late and the sun has already set behind the horizon when Etho asks the woman he's been talking to at the bar if she would like to go for a walk. She agrees and the flowing skirt that she wears brushes against stone path that leads through the park where they end up.

"You're not from around these parts," she says to him with a southern drawl as she takes in the scenery of the well-kept rose bushes that line the pathway, "are you?"

Etho stuffs his hands in the front pockets of his trousers. "Nah, not really. It's a nice town, though."

She smiles, fond. "Father settled here when I was young. It's not much, but it's home."

"Oh?" Etho's eyes shift to look at her walking beside him. His eyes linger on the exposed portion of her neck between the thick, brown curls of her hair. "Where does he work?"

"Ah, he's a carpenter and owns his own company," she replies and then shyly adds, "My brothers also work for him."

"And you don't?" Etho says, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"I'd rather not," she says. "He doesn't want me in that line of work anyway. By gosh, if he had his way I'd be settling down and having children by now."

Etho laughs and shakes his head. "You don't seem like the settling down type. No white picket fence for you?"

"No thank you," she says.

They come to the end of the path then and Etho asks, "Would you like me to walk you home?"

She's gone shy again, but nods her head. There aren't many people out at this time of night. Most have gone home or are holed up indoors, drinking―socializing. After all, that is what they had been doing until Etho suggested they take a walk.

They're not too far from her house when he holds onto her hand a little stronger and pulls her towards him. She's caught off guard and a surprised sound expels from her throat. He shushes her with his lips. Her eyes widen, and she doesn't notice him leading them to the dark of a nearby alleyway.

"What―?" is all she's able to say before she finds her back flush against the brick of one of the buildings that meets the alleyway. Her cheeks flush considerably and she nervously says, "I―I should be getting home."

Etho hums and doesn't make any effort to move from in front of her, keeping her against the wall. "You can go home," he says and his pupils dilate into slits, the dark blue of the irises giving way to red, and he continues, "as soon as I get what I want from you, yeah?"

His hand muffles her scream and he sinks his teeth into her neck. She isn't able to put up much of a fight―her body soon feeling numb, weightless and her eyelids heavy. He retracts his fangs when she slumps, sliding down into a sitting position, unconscious. He presses his lips to the bite on her neck and watches as the puncture wounds suture together and only the wetness of his saliva remains.

It'll dry soon enough and he straightens, wiping the blood around his mouth onto his sleeve. He turns and leaves then, leaving her in the alley. He almost makes it to the intersection before he stops and looks over his shoulder to see three men standing there.

Immediately, Etho knows this isn't going to end well. They don't offer him an explanation before jumping him. Etho's barely able to avoid the sharpness of teeth that lunge at his shoulder, but he isn't able to avoid the claws that tear through the fabric of his waistcoat and to skin.

He hisses, baring his teeth and lashes out. It doesn't prove successful because one of the men holds him in place, struggling to do so, but accomplishing it as another has a grip in Etho's hair, forcing his head up.

"Feeding in another's territory," the man with the hold in his hair says with the same southern drawl the woman had says. "You have too much confidence, man-eater."

"I didn't know it was claimed," Etho says, his voice throaty―guttural.

The men don't take too kindly to his response, and Etho's thrown to the ground. He throws all of his weight into his back and forces one of the men off him that is trying to step on his head, managing to get to his hands and knees before there are nails dragging across his face.

He groans and blood begins to obscure his vision in his left eye. He ignores the pulses of pain and is able to get upright then. He expects to find the men hovering over him, but they are nowhere to be seen. He lets out another groan, pressing the palm of his hand to his left eye, feeling the long, deep gash that's there.

Etho tries to stand up, but his body protests and he shudders, letting out a gasp. He does, however, manage to move enough to prop himself up against the nearest building. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he jerks in the direction they're coming from, however he immediately relaxes upon seeing who it is.

"You look like you're in a bad way, guy."

Etho can't help but to laugh, no matter how painful. "Yeah... You could say that."

"Always getting into trouble when you come to the South," Guude says and offers his hand. Etho takes it without hesitation and is helped to his feet. "I told you the next time you stopped by that you should pay me a visit so I could give you a tour."

"Sorry, Guude."

 

* * *

 

Etho's thankful to be sitting on the comfort of the couch when they reach Guude's humble abode. It's not much―a shoddy little apartment, but it's all Guude needs. Etho tilts his head up so the light hits his face better as Guude presses a wet cloth to his eye, wiping the now dried blood from his skin. He flinches, but otherwise doesn't move.

Guude wets the cloth again in a bucket he's filled with water and returns to rubbing the blood away. It takes a few times before the full extent of the gash is revealed. He can't help but to let out an exasperated sigh because he can only imagine what the damage to his actual eye is like.

"Open your eye for me?" Guude asks.

Etho chuckles and says, quietly, "I don't think I can."

Guude sighs again and shifts through the basket he's set beside Etho on the couch. He can't say he's surprised considering how swollen the area around the eye has become. He pulls out a bottle of disinfectant and a small square pad, wetting it with the disinfectant before pressing it to the gash.

Etho breathes in sharply and his fingers curl at his sides. Fortunately, it isn't long before Guude has placed a piece of gauze in front of Etho's eye and has secured it in place with bandages.

"Thank you, Guude," Etho says.

"Yeah, no problem," Guude says and returns the basket filled with medical supplies to its rightful place in cupboard in the bathroom. "You know, the next time I saw you I didn't expect to find your ass beat in the road."

"Ha ha, very funny," Etho drones, but the small smile on his face betrays his sarcasm. "To be fair, neither did I."

"You're learning some bad habits from Pause," Guude says when he re-enters the room.

"Hey, Guude," Etho begins and Guude stops, standing in the middle of the small room. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"A favor?" Guude repeats and then in good humor says, "You're going to run me dry at this rate. I just patched your ass up."

Etho lets out a breathy laugh, suddenly seeming uncomfortable in his own skin. "Do you... think you could help me wean off human blood?"

Guude doesn't say anything for a long while. "Is that what you want?"

It's Etho's turn to be silent. Memories of the woman's wide, fearful eyes from earlier flash in the forefront of his mind. Shaking his head, he pretends not to notice the throbs of pain it causes.

Eventually, he says, "Yeah. It is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no Pause/Arkas in sight, but I assure you that they will happen eventually. This interlude was important to write because it established the foundation of another important relationship. Also, Etho's back story is one of the first things I thought of when creating this story in the beginning, so it's important to me as the author.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you liked it despite how out of left field it may seem!


End file.
